


Rick and Morty Prompts.

by xerxezra



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 06:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xerxezra/pseuds/xerxezra
Summary: A collection of one-shots that I have written for various Ricks.





	1. Petal Talk.

Home is where the heart is, Rick had said to you once. 

And his heart was with you. 

As such, it became prudent for Rick to personalize his home with your presence as soon as you had moved in — an abundance of photographs of you two lined the walls and littered desk tops, an entire closet space had been emptied out for your belongings, a spot for your ancient toaster now occupied the corner of the kitchen counter, the bed was covered in your favorite pillows, and so on. 

He even admitted to you that the lingering smell of you on the bedsheets brightened his early mornings, like a soothing balm to his fears of waking up alone, never having known or met you. 

The need to have you invade each nook and cranny of his quaint little cottage was heartwarming. You had never felt so appreciated and welcomed before. 

So it was with great enthusiasm that you humored Rick’s impulses. 

Today, he decided that his garden, a beautiful safe haven he spent decades cultivating, was distinctly lacking your favorite flowers. The idea came to him sporadically as you poured him his favorite blend of blooming tea, and he simply could not contain his excitement as he steadfastly encouraged you to share your thoughts on the matter. 

It took Rick several minutes of portalling across the world to gather some specimens as per your preferences. You spent the time getting dressed for the summer heat, throwing on some old shorts and a faded sunflower shirt, and arming yourself with thick gardener’s gloves and a wide-brimmed straw hat that had bumblebees embellished on its bow. 

You stepped out into the freshly mowed lawn, your attention drawn to an opening portal by the flower garden — Rick’s backyard was evenly sectioned off according to practical classification, and he seemingly had chosen a patch of land by the strawberries. 

Of course he would place your favorite flowers beside your favorite berries, you thought to yourself with a quiet giggle as you made your way over to Rick with a bucket of tools in hand. 

Rick had neatly assembled the foraged plants in temporary pots during his hunt, and had his back turned to you while he surveyed the collection. Ever the resourceful man, he had long since changed into gardening attire while out searching for flowers. 

The sound of your footsteps along the cobblestone path alerted him to your presence. “Ready for a day of fun labor?” he asked before turning to you. “O-oh my, you l-look so lovely, cariño."

You smiled bashfully as you looked over the flowers, the brim of your hat hiding your blush. “One doesn’t typically find old, tattered clothing to be attractive.” 

“Certainly not, but — well, I think you are most beautiful wh-when you’re getting down and dirty —“ Rick paused, and his eyes widened in shock. “N-n-not that you aren’t _always_ beautiful! A-and, oh gosh, I-I didn’t mean to make that last part sound s-so — so _suggestive_ —“

The poor man’s momentary meltdown had you in a fit of laughter. “Sweetheart, relax!” You soothingly rubbed his shoulders while he hid his face behind his hands and groaned. “I know what you meant, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

He sighed and dropped his hands, offering you a tiny smile. “I-I sure do have a way with words, don’t I?”

You chuckled, shaking your head and squatting down beside the plants. “So, what have you gathered here?” A multitude of beautiful flowers greeted you, their petals luscious and pristine. “Wow, these look absolutely gorgeous! And they smell wonderful, too.”

“I tried to find the best ones,” he said, carefully kneeling down beside you with a slight grimace. “We can start with the — the daisies. I found them in u-upstate New York; there’s a-a-a whole meadow filled with them!”

You waited for Rick to fish out his gardening tools from the bucket and handed him the first pot. “I’m not surprised. They’re abundant in rural areas.” 

Rick hummed in agreement, busying himself with digging up a hole in the soil with the trowel. You both worked in companionable silence, feeling the warm sun along your skin and listening to the sound of birds singing in the distance. The daisies had nearly all been planted, and you worked diligently on the remaining plant, uprooting the soil and carefully extracting the plant to gently lay it inside the hole. 

Running through the motions of gardening was blissfully meditative, and so lost were you in your efforts that you didn’t notice Rick gradually becoming distracted by your presence. 

No, you certainly hadn’t noticed the way he admired your sun-kissed skin, or the way your eyes shined in the bright light while you smiled and sang a happy little tune. 

“Why are — why do you like daisies?” he suddenly asked, and you glanced at him, slightly taken aback by his serene expression. 

“They’re a huge part of my childhood,” you replied, turning back to the flowers and reminiscing on old memories. “I used to stay at the family summer house throughout the summer. You could find daisies for _miles_ , and as you might imagine, this was absolute heaven for toddler me.” You chuckled lightly and closed your eyes, picturing the scenic path you would take to collect the flowers. “There was an abandoned playground situated in a nearby forest. It wasn’t much, just a rusty see-saw and carousel. There were lots of daisies littered around the playground clearing. And I liked how abandoned it was, you know? Just me and my babysitter, collecting flowers and playing on ancient attractions.”

“Sounds a little ethereal, l-like fairies secretly lived in the bushes.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” you said with a laugh, brushing off your hands after finishing with the last plant. “Alright, on to the next ones!”

You eagerly examined the lily of the valley in your gloved hands, its delicate bell-shaped flowers dangling and swaying in the breeze. “Oh, I haven’t seen these beauties in so long!”

“Another relic of the past?” Rick quipped as he dug into the ground. 

“You bet.” After patting down the soil around the planted flower, you quickly cultivated the bedding and gently sprinkled fertilizer. “Every day after school, my babysitter and I walked down a specific street where lily of the valley grew just beyond a neighbor's fence. She tried so hard to get me to stop taking them, but I was totally shameless.”

“Good thing you never got caught, y-y-you little thief.” 

“I couldn’t help it! They’re just so _pretty_.” 

You shared an amicable laugh and settled into a lull in the conversation, until Rick nudged you with an elbow. “Wanna know a fun fact?”

“These flowers are very poisonous?” 

“Y-yes,” he chuckled at your hasty answer. “But there’s — there’s more.” At your questioning look, Rick continued. “The chemical responsible f-for their odor, bourgeonal, stimulates male sperm chemotaxis — that is, th-their movement to search out an egg cell.” 

“… _what?!_ ”

“It’s true!” Rick grinned at your dumfounded expression, his buck teeth digging into his lower lip. “I actually didn’t think to research this. I-i-it was only recently discovered.”

“Well that’s just lovely,” you dramatically sighed. “I’ve been smelling some kind of freaky aphrodisiac all this time. Childhood ruined.” 

“Ohoho, don’t fret about it too much. Plants are known to produce r-really weird adaptations to influence animals. L-like, if — if a plant can entice an animal to come close somehow, then it’s a really clever method of — of seed dispersal. Or pollen, which sticks to the animal’s fur and travels to a stigma to begin fertilization.”

“Hm, that makes sense,” you chirped, letting Rick’s endless knowledge filter through your mind while you planted the flowers. 

Once the lily of the valley had been situated, only the white tulips remained. You were feeling rather thirsty by now, but the temptation to finish your new garden invigorated you. 

“So, why do you love these tulips?” Rick asked. 

You shrugged. “No particular reason — I just like them!”

“Oh, that’s a little — a little underwhelming. I was hoping for another story.”

“Nope, sorry.” You handed him two pots of tulips and got to work. “You know, this is probably a silly question considering how huge your plant collection is, but what are _your_ favorite flowers?”

“D-don’t even get me started, there’s so many! L-like the — the Rafladorium spigmentosum from planet Zorba, o-o-or the shmeelies of Lunarix —"

“ _Earth_ flowers, sweetheart.” 

Rick’s face reddened. “Oh.” He took a moment to think, tapping a gloved finger along his cheek. “I suppose…it would be Mimosa pudica. They’re somewhere in the greenhouse, actually.”

“I’d love for you to show me after we finish,” you said. 

He nodded. “S-sure! It’s not really th-their flowers that I like, so much as it’s the leaves. They’re small and arranged in pairs, and when you touch them or zap them, they instantly close in an orderly fashion!”

“Interesting! And what sort of adaptation is that?”

“There’s — there’s several reasons, actually. It’s a way to scare off bugs with rapid movement, or to make themselves smaller and unappetizing for herbivores.”

“No doubt you’ve thought of some interesting experiments for this plant,” you teased, removing a glove and reaching over to wipe away the dirt stain left along Rick’s cheek. 

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and smiling contently as you ran your thumb along the stain. “Only wh-when I was a teenager. I had this idea to see whether I could behaviorally condition the plant to respond to specific touch in anticipation of — of a reward, l-like if I could teach it to learn that a water droplet, and not an electrical shock, s-signals the arrival of food, o-o-or longer hours of sunlight. A sensor would detect leaf closure, triggering the administration of reward, and the behavior would be measured according to the speed with which they close their leaves, or something of the sort.” 

“And what did you discover?”

Rick winked at you. “Nothing at all. I abandoned the project to work on the spaceship. It’s — it’s all I ever thought about those days.”

“Ah.” You tried to imagine a young Rick, so innocent and hopeful, tinkering away in his garage with dreams of reaching the stars. “Any other flowers you like?”

He searched your eyes for some sort of answer, and looked back at the tulips, now fully planted and ready for the fertilizer. You were a little worried about the sudden change in mood, but decided to quietly wait for him to speak. 

“I like daisies, too,” he finally answered, glancing at the white flowers. “B-but, only because they were my mother’s favorite. Her name was Margarita — did you know it means ‘daisy’ in Spanish?” You shook your head, brows raised in surprise. Rick rarely brought up his family, and you were humbled that he was opening up to you. “She taught me everything I know about gardening,” he said, and tapered off into a quiet solemnness. “I planted them over her grave. Particularly th-the, um, the marguerite daisy, which looks like a regular daisy but with a fluffier assortment of petals near the yellow center.”

You softened your gaze and placed your ungloved hand over his thigh. “That’s a beautiful way to honor her memory, Rick.” 

“Th-thank you,” he murmured, and it took him all but a second to bounce back to his happier state of mind. He removed his glove and laid a hand over your own still resting on his thigh, squeezing gently in reassurance. “I’m sorry for — for bringing up something so sad, honey.”

“Don’t be,” you said with vigor. “I’m always glad to know you trust me enough to tell me these things.”

You both shared a loving smile before Rick noticed a single tulip pot left undisturbed off to the side. “We forgot one!” He beckoned you to pass it along to him, and put his glove back on as he geared up for the finale.

You watched him work while you removed your gardening gear, using your hat to fan your overheated face. “I’d say we did a wonderful job,” you said absentmindedly, your attention flickering over to patches of red at the periphery of your vision. 

“We sure did!” Rick remarked, and you heard the sound of scrapping soil as you turned your back to him, leaning over to the strawberry bushes and picking out a few ripe pieces. 

The first bite was unspeakably delicious, the burst of citrusy sweetness coating your parched tongue. You savored the flavor with a delighted hum and picked out a big, juicy strawberry for Rick. 

“Want a strawberry?” you asked, grabbing it by the base of the leaves and holding it close to his mouth.

He simply hummed in acknowledgment, his focus entirely captivated by his work as he opened his mouth and angled his head in the berry’s direction, eyes fixed downwards in concentration. 

You felt the corner of your mouth lift. Just as Rick got close to the fruit, you slowly pulled it just out of his reach. On and on this chase of cat and mouse went on, unbeknownst to Rick, who still kept his eyes locked with the soil while he chopped up hardened clumps of clay in the dirt. 

And just as he got close enough to you, you quickly darted forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He gave a startled gasp and dropped the shovel, finally looking at you with a bewildered expression. You cheekily grinned at his reaction and mentally cheered as a light blush colored his face. 

“For making this garden for me,” you said, placing the strawberry to his lips. 

He smiled brightly and bit into the fruit, joining you in your merriment.


	2. Tabula Rasa.

_Starry eyed_ , he called you, caressing your face with the tenderness of a breeze. 

Rick had always loved the stars — they flickered inconspicuously in the night sky, tantalizing in their potential, in the secrets they hold, and in the freedom to wander among them for so long that you become one with them eventually. 

When he watched you staring up into the skies of alien worlds with youthful excitement, he saw the stars reflected in your eyes. You would always carry a piece of each new world he brought you to, and Rick realized that he would never have to search very far to experience the rush of wanderlust — he could always look into your eyes, knowing you’d be smiling back at him. Warm and radiant, a comforting constant in his lonely life. Together you traversed the unknown, little specks of insignificant consciousness in a cosmos without meaning. 

Laying side by side on the white sands of a long-forgotten planet, the susurrus of ebbing water like white noise lulling you to relaxation, Rick pulled you closer into his embrace and cocooned you in his endearingly lanky limbs. You freely yawned with a soft sigh, content to press lazy kisses along his sternum.

“When will the sunrise happen?” you asked softly, so as to not break the peaceful quiet. 

“N-not much longer now,” he replied. “The sky’s starting to lighten up, I think.” 

You peaked up from his chest and did indeed see a purpling horizon. With every passing minute, an orange sun creeped over the horizon, bringing with it a spectacular bloom of colors that seemed to engulf the stars. You gasped in wonder, hurriedly clambering over Rick to fetch your sketchpad and coloring pencils. He laid back with an easy smile and crossed his arms under his head, admiring the speed with which you chose the desired pencils as you got to work. 

The sun was surrounded by a beautiful lavender glow that blended into soft pinks and vibrant aqua, a crown of glittering gold radiating across the sky to light up the land in an ethereal glow. It was one of the most stunning sights you had ever seen, and you were determined to add this piece to Rick’s growing collection of your artwork. 

Drawing had always put you in a trance, so you paid no mind to Rick scooting over to sit behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and peering over your shoulder to check on your progress. 

“That’s — wow, that’s so pretty! I think you’ve out-outdone yourself again, sweetie,” he raved, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

You giggled and leaned back against him. “It’s nothing compared to the real thing,” you said, extending your hand in a grand gesture at the landscape before you. 

“I disagree, you _know_ how much I love your art. We can just as easily take a picture, b-but the fact that _you_ drew it with a personal touch makes your drawings priceless.”

You hummed in thought. “It’s like you once told me, I suppose — everything is meaningless without a little bit of human error mixed in. Entropy arising from imagination, bending the rules of perfection."

“Exactly. I — I love the imperfections. They’re a reflection of who we are.” 

“And I’m just a rainbow of sunrises, aren’t I?” you teased, laughing as he burrowed his face against your neck and hugged you closer. 

“You — you sure are,” he muttered. “Always bringing color into my life.” 

You paused your drawing and simply stared at the shimmering waves, rolling closer and closer to your bare feet. “I wasn’t always like this,” you admitted. “Art was my escape, but it became my prison, too. It’s not…fun, seeing your inner self revealed in physical form. Not when you hate yourself.” 

Rick slowly trailed a hand across your stomach in soothing motions, silently listening to your confession. “When I met you, though…” You swiveled in his embrace, looking into his pensive eyes. “I started liking myself again, and I wanted to draw again. I do it to show you how much I’ve changed, Rick.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You make me so happy.” 

He returned your kiss immediately, so achingly tender and passionate all at once. You sighed in contentment and basked in his love for you, and when you gently pushed him away, you wiped away the tears that had slipped down his cheeks. 

And as you gazed into his eyes, your new self reflected back at you. Rick had always been the painter of your vibrant life, and you, his canvas.


	3. Pocky Game.

Sometimes, you just needed a little extra sugar in your life. 

Not that Rick wasn’t sweet enough for you, but there was simply no greater bonding experience than visiting candy stores. You both had equally insatiable appetites for dessert, and an even greater need to expand your horizons by trying out new sweets. 

Normally, Rick would enjoy taking you to alien marketplaces that rivaled the likes of Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. But you were on vacation in Japan, and you utterly insisted on taking the lead this time.

The moment you two walked through the doors into literal pastel-colored heaven, Rick let loose the biggest smile in the world and immediately began gushing over the sushi-shaped candies wrapped in adorable little bento boxes. 

You, on the other hand, ran straight for the kit-kats. Watermelon, choco banana, apple vinegar, pumpkin pudding, you shamelessly stuffed them all into your hand basket with glee. 

And then you saw the pocky.

Oh, the possibilities. Did Rick even know about proper pocky-eating etiquette for couples? 

You suspected he did not, and so, it was with a sly grin that you swiped the chocolate pocky into your basket and continued shopping. 

The day had been rather successful, especially after you showed Rick the cat cafe. You spent a good hour taking pictures of the cute latte art and Rick snuggling with all of the kittens, and giggled at his zealous need to know every single name. 

With evening rolling in, Rick led you into a beautiful winding park, where you walked hand-in-hand and admired the lush greenery. 

“Why don’t we stop there?” you asked and pointed to a seating area overlooking a koi pond. It was perfectly secluded enough for your dastardly plan with the pocky, but your innocent lover had no idea. 

“Th-this looks like a lovely place to rest,” he said, sitting down beside you and carefully placing the shopping bags at his feet. “Oh my, those fish a-a-are getting awfully close to us!”

You giggled. “They’re probably used to being fed by humans. Speaking of,” you leaned over his lap, unable to see his light blush, and stuck your hand into a bag. “We gotta try some of the snacks we bought.” 

“Yeah,” he shyly muttered, running a hand along your back while you dug around, and set it across your shoulders when you straightened back up. 

You scooched into his half-embrace and set the kit-kats to the side, holding up the thin package of pocky sticks between you. “We’ll try these first,” you said. “Ever heard of them?”

“Nope, but they — they sure look tasty!” 

“Oh, they are,” you said conversationally, popping open the top and taking out a stick to show him. “Just some plain chocolate-covered biscuits, so simple and yet so delicious.” You decided to test out Rick’s imagination and stuck one end between your lips, twisting around to look at him expectantly. 

His eyes flickered between yours and the pocky stick before smiling cutely and taking out a piece for himself from the box. “Gosh, y-y-you look — you look so cute like that,” he snickered, munching on the chocolate top with his buck teeth. 

You pursed your lips around the pocky and bemusedly watched him finish his stick, humming in agreement when he excitedly proclaimed that they were as yummy as they looked. “You know, Rick,” you began conversationally, momentarily taking the snack out of your mouth. “There’s a special way to eat these things.” 

“Oh? H-how so?” 

“It’s called the pocky game,” you said with a smirk. “Each person holds one end of the stick in their mouth, and they have to eat the pocky without being the first to drop it!”

Rick bit his lip and furrowed his brow in thought, tapping his finger against his cheek. “But…” he mumbled, “Isn’t there some kind of — some kind of eventual meeting point?”

“Don’t think about it too hard, honey,” you chuckled, patting his knee and putting the stick back between your lips. This time, when you held it up for him and poked it against his mouth, Rick hesitantly wrapped his lips around the other end and eyed you nervously. 

The first nibble brought you two nearly nose-to-nose. His eyes widened exponentially, and a furious blush colored his cheeks the closer you got to each other with each bite. You held his stare all the while, and with just a hairsbreadth of distance between you left, bit into the entire remainder of the pocky and met his lips in a searing kiss. 

He bit off the connecting piece with a yelp, jolting backward and covering his face with his hands to hide his flushed state. You simply munched on the pocky pieces in your mouth victoriously, laughing at how flustered the poor man was.

“That bad?” you asked, trying your best to stifle your giggles. 

Rick groaned and shook his head, peeking at you from between his fingers. “I-i-it was — I was just s-so surprised, but y-your — your kiss was sweet…” 

You smiled reassuringly and tilted the pocky box towards him. “Round two?” 

He tentatively took a stick, looking at the snack for a moment before squaring his shoulders and popping the chocolate side into his mouth. 

_Sneaky Rick_ , you thought to yourself as you took the biscuit end, determined to steal some of the chocolate. 

Except before you had the chance to even take your second bite, Rick had crossed over with lightning speed and hummed as he pressed his lips softly to yours. You smiled into the kiss, letting him bask in victory while he cupped your face in his hands and dragged a thumb along your cheek. 

You broke apart after a minute to finish the pocky and suck in some air. Rick looked rather pleased with himself as he scratched the back of his neck and glanced at the pond. 

“I — I really like this game,” he admitted, and you couldn’t resist swooping in for another slow kiss, dipping your tongue into his mouth for a taste of that chocolate he so rudely denied you.


	4. Horizons.

1.

You stood amidst an endless expanse of bleached sand that stretched in every direction, forming meandering slopes that dipped into shallow pools of glittering water, crystalline in their visibility and devoid of all life. The horizon teased you with its limitless symmetry, a boundary where land and sea intermingled like brackish water, and as you deeply inhaled the salty air, you wondered how far you could walk before the Bahamas Banks plummeted into the depths of the oceanic trenches and swallowed you whole.

The sun burned hot in the cloudless sky overhead, but you were well prepared for its unyielding power, having covered yourself with sunscreen and a wide-brimmed hat at Rick’s behest. His long fingers entwined with yours as you walked side by side, smiling at your enthusiastic wonderment while you marveled at how deeply your feet sank into the damp sand. 

“This — this sand is really special, you know,” Rick commented, dipping down briefly to scoop up a handful of grains in his palm. “If you look closely, y-y-you can see that it's shaped like little spheres! They’re called ooids — funny word, huh?”

You peered into his proffered hand and did indeed catch sight of their unique appearance. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen sand like this. They look so perfectly circular and smooth.” 

“That’s because of the way this particular island is structured. The limestone a-accumulating on the shores of the Bahamas is — i-is very old, and as erosion degrades the stone, bits of particles are released into the water. Limestone is made out of calcium carbonate, wh-which is found in abundance in the water. Over time, bits of limestone on the sea floor rolls with each passing wave, collecting the calcium carbonate like a snowball rolling down a snowy hill!"

“So there’s a lot of calcium carbonate in these waters?” you asked, dipping your foot into a little puddle as you walked by. “It’s not dangerous, is it?”

Rick chuckled and let the sand in his hand fall away between his fingers. “Not at all, mi corazón. It is, however, the reason why we aren’t seeing any fish or crabs in the water. Nothing survives here,” he finished with a hint of sadness. 

You hummed in thought as you glanced into the basket at your side, the white shells of sand dollars twinkling up at you and clinking together with each step you took. “How did these sand dollars end up here?” you wondered, imagining them traversing through the ocean in search of a safe home, only to stumble upon a deadly environment that drained their life-force. 

“Guess they got — g-got unlucky. Chose the wrong path in life.” 

You glanced at Rick, unnerved by the sudden change in mood. He was turned away from you, staring off into the distance as the gentle breeze rustled his stringy hair. 

“Hey,” you softly called out, bumping your joined hands against his hip to recapture his attention. Rick looked back at you in mild surprise, his eyebrows raised in question as you searched his pensive expression. “Are you okay?” 

“I — I, oh, of course I am,” he replied, offering you a reassuring smile and lightly squeezing your hand. “It’s just, i-it really makes you think. These little moments, I mean.” 

You remained silent in a bid to keep him speaking, leading him towards a colorful shell sticking out of nearby pearlescent water. 

“I’ve been to so many different worlds, seen so — so many different t-types of living organisms, a-a-all trying their best to survive. It just —“ Rick bit his lip, furrowing his brow. “— i-it gets a little sad, seeing them … well, not make it sometimes. And they didn’t _know_ that their choices would have bad consequences. They just went for it, and — and fate handled the rest.” 

Your hand gently unfurled from Rick’s grip as you bent down to the seashell, plucking it out of the sand and running a thumb over it to remove any stray bits of grain. You held the shell between the tips of your fingers for Rick to see, admiring its butterfly-like shape and the alternating stripes of yellow and pink along the outer surface, bisected by horizontal white lines. 

“All things come to an end,” you said, smiling softly at the seashell. “It doesn’t mean that life never happened to begin with. We all experience the brief gift of life, regardless of how short that may be. And look — “ You twirled the shell and lifted your basket to show him the sand dollars. “We leave behind such beautiful memories.” 

A shimmer of wetness gathered at the corner of Rick’s eyes, but neither of you mentioned it. He gave you a shaky smile and placed his hands on your hips, leaning down as you kissed the tip of his nose. “I was being silly, w-wasn’t I?”

“Honey, you of all people have the right to a minor existential crisis every now and then.” 

“G-gosh, that’s — I didn’t mean to be _that_ depressing…”

“Nonsense,” you firmly replied, swooping in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “We’re in the Bahamas, Rick. There’s nothing you could say or do to ruin my incredible mood.”

He nodded, seemingly appeased by your reassurances. 

You promptly decided to switch the subject. Your scientific curiosity had not been sated just yet — the pretty sea shell was still waiting for identification by your dear scientist, and so you brought it into view once more, laying the shell onto the palm of your hand as Rick got a closer look at it. 

“What kind of seashell is this?” you asked. 

“I … I don’t know, actually.” He laughed lightly, running a finger along its smooth surface. “I don’t get to say that very often, do I?”

You joined him in his merriment, twining your hand with his once more as you gently placed the sea shell into your basket of sand dollars. “Sometimes, it feels freeing to not know.”

Rick met your pointed look and smiled crookedly. “Even if the f-future is grim?”

“ _That_ , my love — “ You stood up on your tiptoes, sinking into the sand as you quickly kissed his cheek. “ — is life!”

2.

You were back in that special place Rick had taken you, so many years ago. The same turquoise saltwater tickled your shins as you slowly stepped through eons of limestone sand, rising between your toes like sticky mud and falling away with each purposeful stride. 

And yet it was not the same anymore. 

The landscape had been rearranged throughout every seasonal storm and hurricane. New paths were carved into the exposed sand bars, while long-forgotten pockets of land had been engulfed by the ever-changing sea. 

You looked behind you and scanned the trail of footsteps you had made during your journey. A gentle weight at your side made tension creep up your arm as you held onto a basket, and you glanced at the innocent thing with an aching tenderness in your heart. 

That basket had once held so many important memories. Rick had gotten it for you at a local flea market during a breezy autumn day, and ever since then it carried your meals for picnics, wild mushrooms of alien origin as Rick took you on an adventure through foreign forests, and even — 

Even the sand dollars and sea shells you scooped up from these unforgiving sands. 

There were no sand dollars or sea shells in this basket now. 

You forged ahead, conscious of the footsteps you were carving into the tempestuous land that bore no life. Only change. 

And yet, somehow the two were indiscriminately linked — life was forever changing, and change begot new life. 

Oh, how cruel change could be, an agent of entropy that gives and takes whatever fate decides. 

You closed your eyes momentarily, letting the dancing strobes of colors behind your eyelids steal your attention until you were whole once more, and suddenly you remembered the task you had set out to complete. 

You’ve kept him waiting too long with your sentimentality. 

A twinkle of light caught your eye as you strolled beside pools of water. You stood still for a split second, hoping against all odds that you found what you were looking for. 

The strange illusion remained in place while you waited. A cautious smile pulled at your lips as you carefully took your first step towards the curious sight, letting the sand swallow the sound of your movement. 

You placed the basket beside you and slowly leaned down to get a closer look into the shallow water. Not a hint of wind lingered in the air, allowing the water to stay still and silent, a translucent mirror into a temporary world carved by its presence. 

And in that mirror-world lay trapped a little silver fish, so close to the border where water met dry atmosphere. 

A bittersweet pain gripped your heart, yet still, you smiled and blinked away salty tears. 

Here was the end of your mission. 

“See, Rick?” you quietly murmured, trailing your fingers over the pot nestled within your basket while you watched the fish. “Life always persists. Even when everything’s changed.” 

You could almost hear the whisper of his faint laughter flutter through the air. The heat must be getting to you. 

The fish twitched and turned as it gasped for oxygen in the depleted water. A particular angle made it appear as though it were looking right at you, and for a silly moment you were reminded of Rick’s hopelessly large eyes. 

The thought made you quietly giggle to yourself. You lifted a hand as inconspicuously as you could to avoid scaring the creature away, and slowly, carefully lowered down one finger to skim the surface of that tranquil water. The ensuing ripples distorted your secret mirror-world, and when you retracted your finger, the fish had zoomed away into the deeper ends of the pool, following the meandering slivers of streams that emptied out into the distant sea. 

You watched it race towards its new destiny. 

It did not know whether the choice it made had been the correct one. Neither did you. 

You lifted the pot from the basket and smoothed over the engraved exterior with your thumbs, feeling its weight between your hands for the very last time. 

These hands, that once held Rick’s face as you smothered it with kisses. These hands, that held the flower pots he planned to add to his garden. These hands, that were now covered in wrinkles and scars collected from years of adventure with the love of your life. 

_This was your last adventure together._

You uncapped the pot and tipped it over in one go, watching the soot-colored particles rain down into the water, trailing outward like tendrils of smoke. One day, all of it would become one with these odd grains of sand that travelled across the sea floor like wandering snowballs. 

And in this way, Rick would travel with them, to uncharted territories forevermore.


End file.
